Suspicious Behaviour
by chocaholic
Summary: Tristan's car breaks down. He stays at the Inn. Rory's there. He acts weird. RT and AU
1. Default Chapter

Okie dokie, this is my first Gilmore Girls fic so...yeah. Um, I kinda missed out on heaps of episodes in the first season (only watched the ones with Tristan in 'em) so I'm all blanky about some information. If I don't know it, I made it up. Sorry if that pisses you off.   
  
Big thanks to Butters for betaing even though she isn't into GG, she was a little trooper! Love ya babe =)   
  
He needed to get out of this god-forsaken place. He needed to get out now.   
  
How did he get here in the first place? It was beyond him. All he knew that one moment he was on the highway, the next he was turning off on an exit, afraid the engine of his car would blow up any second. It was a miracle he got to this place before it did just that. Although now he was wishing it had of blown up, taking him with it.   
  
This place was a nightmare. All he intended to do was get the car fixed, or at least call someone to come and get him. But there was no one that he could call, and the car had to be taken in to service for at least a few days.   
  
And that left him where? In Pleasantville, that's where. The only difference was this place had color, and as an overly bright dressed lady walked past him, he was wishing it didn't.   
  
He needed to find a place to stay, lock himself in there and only leave when the car was good and ready. Easier said then done, he didn't know the town let alone any place to stay there.   
  
Walking aimlessly down the streets, he stopped by a hardware store. The only place so far that didn't look like it was out of a fairytale. He decided to enter and ask for directions.   
  
*Okay...what the fuck?* He double checked the sign outside of the building. Yep, definitely said hardware. He wasn't going blind. But upon entering, something was slightly off. Like the missing hardware-ish supplies, in their place tables and chairs and...food. Yeah, okay. Was this place so far away from civilization that they didn't even know the meaning of hardware?   
  
He was about to leave, not wanting to risk talking to anyone inside in case they were all psychopaths that lured innocent outsiders and then forced them to barn dances and ho-downs. But his stomach had other plans, which it made clear by growling loudly at him. He noticed the other patrons staring, but whether it was from the noise his stomach was making or the fact that they didn't know him, he couldn't tell. He just needed something to eat.   
  
Walking in, he moved to the counter tensely, taking a seat on one of the stools and waited to be served. He was staring at the napkin in front of him, when a tall brunette approached from a backroom.   
  
"Hey there stranger," she began brightly, "welcome to Luke's house of death. Our specials this morning include poisonous-"   
  
"Lorelai," a gruff looking flannel wearing man cut her off, "what did I tell you about chasing away customers?"   
  
"That I shouldn't do it?" she asked, looking at her feet.   
  
"Exactly, get back on your side of the counter."   
  
She pouted, but complied, sliding onto another stool.   
  
"What do you want?" the guy - Luke - almost snapped.   
  
"Well, I'd like a donut, and some coff--"   
  
"Not you." He cut her off once again, and turned back to the stranger.   
  
Glancing quickly at the menu, he stated his order, "cheese and tomato toasted sandwich and orange juice, thanks." He was craving some coffee, but at the moment, all he wanted to do was get a room and go to sleep. Coffee was a definite no-no, which was sad because he seemed to have developed quite an addiction from an early age. He quietly congratulated himself for not being so weak.   
  
Luke nodded in approval, and turned back to the brunette, "take note, that's the kind of breakfast that won't take 10 years off your life."   
  
She just stuck her tongue out in reply.   
  
Luke left to prepare the order and Lorelai turned to the stranger. "I'll give you..." she dug around in her pockets, "a quarter and two purple, slightly chipped buttons if you get me a coffee."   
  
He turned to her, about to answer when a loud "don't even think about it!" was heard from the kitchen area.   
  
She glared in the general direction of the sound, but then turned back to him, a bright smile on her face. "Haven't seen you round these here parts before," she drawled in a southern accent, "what brings you about?"   
  
"Car trouble," he mumbled, in no mood to play games.   
  
"Oh, you're no fun." A plate was thrust before him and he was thankful as it gave him an escape from conversation. Sure, she seemed nice enough, but talking was so not what he wanted right now. "Luke, see what you've done?"   
  
Luke grunted and shrugged, "what?"   
  
"I'm sure this lovely young gentleman seated next to me was a ...lovely young gentleman before he came in here. But you and your not very friendly demeanor have had such an impact on the impressionable youth that he is now all sulky and pouty and mono-syllabic."   
  
"I'm sure the only reason he's sulky and pouty and mono-syllabic is because its 9 in the morning and you're already bombarding him with...whatever it is you bombard people with and the kid hasn't had a chance to get a word in edgewise."   
  
He almost smiled at their conversation, some comic relief in an otherwise completely un-comical situation. The two continued to argue, somehow straying to the topic of pets and why the woman wasn't allowed to have any. Luke was on his 8th reason on the 'Why Lorelai Can't Have Pets' list, which he claimed the whole town had compiled, when the door flew open and another brunette bounced in, cutting the reason short.   
  
"Munchkin!" Lorelai squealed.   
  
"Mommy!"   
  
"Luke, please retrieve munchkin two cups of coffee, munchkin has had a big day and needs two cups of coffee. Doncha munchkin?"   
  
"It's 9 in the morning, she just woke up." He poured and handed a cup of coffee to the newcomer, who sat next to Lorelai.   
  
"No fair. I only want one."   
  
"You've already had three."   
  
"So, one more won't hurt."   
  
"No. I've told you a hundred times that-"   
  
She cut him off with a wave of her hand; "quiet, I'm getting to know my new friend." She turned back to the blonde and stuck out her hand.   
  
"Hello car trouble boy, I'm Lorelai."   
  
He stuck his hand, not out of any true need to get to know her better, but out of manners that had been installed into his brain since he was a toddler.   
  
"Tristan."   
  
Turning back to his breakfast he gulped down the rest of the juice and turned to Luke, "could you tell me where I could find a place to stay for a few nights?"   
  
Before Luke had a chance to answer, Lorelai did so for him, "I sure can. Let me introduce myself again. Hi, I'm Lorelai. Manager of the Independence Inn and I am going there right now because I am the manager. It's a very fun place. The food is good and the music is good. The French people are rude but the food is good! I could give you a ride...I'm the manager," she finished off proudly.   
  
Tristan smiled at her, "thanks." He laid some money on the table and waited for Lorelai to get up. She did after a few more attempts at purchasing coffee. A coffee addict. Excellent. *My luck seems to be looking up* he thought with a faint glimmer of optimism.   
  
"You comin' Ror? You promised you'd come in and help me today."   
  
"But Mommy, I have a date," the girl complained.   
  
"A book is not a date, young lady."   
  
"How do you know it's not a boy?"   
  
"Because you've never had a date before, and you would have told me."   
  
The daughter pouted and turned a furious shade of red.   
  
Lorelai looked from Rory to Tristan, and back again. She chuckled, "now that I'm done embarrassing you in front of a cute boy, let us be gone from here!"   
  
She took both their hands and dragged them from the store toward her car. Tristan couldn't help but look at the girl. Lorelai had called her 'Ror'. Weird name, no doubt but pretty girl all the same. She was still blushing as her mother pushed her into the front seat, after which she quickly pushed Tristan into the back seat. Within 20 seconds they were driving off and Tristan sighed in relief. He had a place to stay for the night; yep things were definitely looking up.   
  
Confused? Me too =(   
  
I didn't mean to end it there 'cause I had more written, but it, like, finished mid-sentence so...   
  
Review? 


	2. 2

Pissed - whoops, my bad. Apologize to your mom for me. Oh, and for future reference: know*, could*, it's*, guidance*, what*, meant*, any*. There you go; legible flames are so much more fun to read. =)  
  
Everyone who asked - Yeah, it's AU.   
  
ExoticEnigma - Don't know the name of Hillarie's character, sorry. And watching 'one tree hill' 'cause of Chad is a kick ass reason! And answering your other questions: 1) I titled it The Green Pencil for no particular reason. I just have a really nice colored green pencil lying on my desk and I was all out of spiffy title ideas. 2) Yeah, let's hope it is. 3) If I can work 'Mary' into it, he'll call her that. I'm sure I can think of plenty of ways for Tristan to annoy Rory. 4) He already is my personal sex slave. It rocks dude.  
  
Everyone who reviewed - Thanks heaps, youse guys are excellent =D  
  
Disclaimer: Anyone offering?  
  
Thanks Butterbabe. I owe you.  
  
Chapter 2   
  
They stood in silence. Extremely awkward silence while each tried to think up of something to say; something witty, or smart, or impressive...or at the very least something not lame.   
  
After several seconds, Tristan finally came up with the perfect line.   
  
"Um...thanks for taking me up to my room." *smooth*   
  
"Yeah...no problem."   
  
They shared a brief awkward smile, before looking back at their respective feet.   
  
The elevator dinged, signaling their floor.   
  
Tristan followed her - Rory, he learned her name was - down the hall, coming to a stop in front of a door at the far end.   
  
"Okay, well here's your room and um...you've got the key, which you put in the keyhole and um...turn, which you would of course know because you've probably opened hundreds of doors and even if you haven't it isn't exactly rocket science. In fact it isn't any kind of science. It's not really any kind of anything. Just door opening...and I'll shut up now," she took a deep breath, well aware that her cheeks were turning the color of her red nail polish. Why had she let her mom paint them red?   
  
Tristan laughed out loud for the first time in...well, a long time. He had only met her about 15 minutes ago, yet he already knew that she tended to ramble far more then any person he ever knew.   
  
"Sorry," she went back to observing the carpet, "I'll just go now and leave you to do...whatever. Um...lunch is going to be served soon downstairs. You really shouldn't miss it. Sookie is a heck of a chef."   
  
With that, she turned and quickly walked back toward the elevator. He watched her go and smiled to himself, turning back to the door and opening it.   
  
"There's something odd about that boy," Lorelai stated as Rory sat next to her.   
  
"Hi mom."   
  
"Hey Sweets. There's something odd about that boy."   
  
Rory looked around, confused, "what boy?"   
  
"Mr. I-don't-have-a-credit-card-or-ID-on-me-but-I-really-need-a-place-to-stay."   
  
"I thought he said his last name was Michaels."   
  
"What a load of...baloney. He's hiding something. Something dangerous."   
  
"And you sent me, your only daughter, to escort him to his room?" Rory asked, feigning hurt.   
  
"You're fine aren't you? We have some snooping to do. Here's the plan: you get him down here for dinner, seduce him, take him to a room and drug him. I'll go to his room and snoop," she finished with a nod of her head, finalizing the plan.   
  
"Why do I have to distract him? I'm always the distraction. You should distract him. I'm so much better at the stealth stuff. You draw way to much attention to yourself. Besides, if you think he's dangerous why'd you let him in?"   
  
Lorelai shrugged, "I'm a nice person, and he looked so sad. I couldn't just let him go out there on his own."   
  
"Out there? It's Stars Hollow Mom."   
  
"Yeah, but Kirk's on the loose tonight. His mother went out of town."   
  
"And left him alone?"   
  
"Of course not, she got him a babysitter. But Mrs. McDonald is about 150 years old. She goes to sleep at 4 in the afternoon. Kirk's ecstatic. Anyway kiddo, I have an inn to run, see ya later!" she deposited a kiss on Rory's forehead and walked toward the front of the hotel where Michel was demanding her undivided attention.   
  
Rory looked around the almost empty dining room, lunch wasn't for another half hour and so far the only occupants were hotel workers who were quietly cleaning the room in preparation for the guests. The food would be brought out in 20 minutes, and she had nothing to do.   
  
He entered the dining room, and immediately spotted her. Didn't matter that she was in the far back corner, hidden from view by the book she was currently immersed in and eating her way through a large bowl of fruit salad, he still spotted her easily. Internal radar.   
  
Making his way over to the buffet, Tristan filled two plates full of food. True he had only had breakfast a couple of hours ago, but one sandwich and a glass of orange juice was not enough to sustain him. He was a growing boy.   
  
He slowly walked over to her table, all the while debating whether or not he should sit with her or find his own table. Looking around the hall, he found no empty seats and he was really hungry.   
  
"Hey."   
  
Rory jumped, dropping her fork and novel and squeaking in the process. He had always had an effect on the female population, but never in a week had he ever made a girl blush as many times as he had made her in the few short hours they had known each other. It was rather fun.   
  
"Oh, hey."   
  
"Didn't mean to scare you."   
  
"You didn't-..." she trailed off and bent down to pick up the book that had fallen from her hands. Tristan took the opportunity to check out her cleavage. Or he would have, had she not been wearing a turtleneck. Damn it.   
  
"Mind if I sit down?"   
  
She gave him a blank look, as her minds slowly processed his request. He took her silence for hesitation. *No, that can't be right. This is usually the part where the girl is falling over herself saying yes while trying to maintain composure.*   
  
"It's just that there aren't any other available seats, and I saw you and thought 'hey, familiar face' but never mind..." he trailed off.   
  
Rory looked around and found that, indeed, there was no available seating. She turned back to Tristan and found him about to walk away "Yeah, sure. Have a seat," she said quickly.   
  
He stopped and glanced back at her, his plate, the empty chair across from her and back at Rory. Putting his stomach above his dignity, he sat down and began to eat.   
  
Rory watched in slight amusement as he wolfed down the meal. He had brought two full plates to the table, and was halfway through the first. Unintentionally, she let loose a small giggle.   
  
He stopped eating immediately. "What?"   
  
"You must be awfully hungry," she told him, gesturing to the plates.   
  
Tristan immediately felt self conscious. He reached for the napkin and wiped his mouth, then resumed eating - this time much slower. As he chewed the food, he realized that no girl had ever made him feel self aware, albeit that time in second grade when Paris had informed him his Bert and Ernie underwear were on display to the entire class. That wasn't much fun.   
  
He would miss Paris. Not much, but definitely more than any of his other class mates. She was the only one who was ever straight forward with him. He was sure they would have been great friends had it not been for her extremely awkward crush on him. With her determination and brains, and his status as God, they would have been one hell of an unstoppable force. Maybe one day he would go into business with her. A Gellar and Dugrey alliance...his father would love that. Scratch the thought.   
  
Rory sighed, well aware that he only sat next to her due to lack of empty tables. He probably didn't exactly want her condemning his eating habits.   
  
"Sorry."   
  
Tristan stopped eating once again and looked up at her. "For what?"   
  
"Insulting you."   
  
"You didn't insult me."   
  
"No?"   
  
"No."   
  
"Oh...well, good then."   
  
He waited a moment, and when she said nothing further took it as a sign the conversation was over.   
  
Rory looked back down at her book, skimming the lines quickly. She didn't know what to do or say around him, he made her feel awkward and nervous. Probably because of the amazing hotness he possessed. And the odd way in which he looked at her. As if he were analyzing everything she did. It was uncomfortable. She was used to being shy around guys, heck she was shy around almost anyone.   
  
"Where are you from?" the question surprised the both of them after the extensive silence. Rory went red, hating how he seemed to be annoyed by her question.   
  
"I'm from...North Carolina" True enough, he was born there. She didn't ask him specifically where he was living at the moment. He wasn't lying or anything. Then why did he feel bad?   
  
"Oh. Are you visiting some one here?"   
  
"Why the interrogation?" he snapped.   
  
Rory looked back at her plate, "Sorry," she mumbled. It wasn't her fault. She was naturally inquisitive.   
  
Tristan took a drink of coke, studying the girl before him. Maybe he shouldn't have snapped at her. But she was being nosy and asking things that, quite frankly, were none of her damn business. He was perfectly justified in telling her off. That didn't stop the feeling of guilt. But he couldn't apologize. He'd done too much of that lately. And besides, he was a Dugrey. Dugrey's didn't apologize for anything.   
  
*I'm not a Dugrey anymore. I'm a...* he searched his memory for the surname he had given Lorelai *...a Michael. Tristan Michael. And maybe Michael's DO apologize.* when he had left home, he had resolved to try and be the exact opposite of everything the Dugrey name stood for. This might be a step in the right direction.   
  
"I'm just passing through. Going to visit some relatives."   
  
Rory glanced up at him and nodded, "well I'm done here. Enjoy the rest of your meal."   
  
With that she stood up, gathered her book and the coffee she had been drinking, gave him a small smile and walked away hurriedly.   
  
Tristan sighed. He seemed to have some kind of special gift for screwing things up.   
  
Okay, so I'm kinda not sure where this story is going. That's why there was the delay. That and I'm heaps lazy. *blushes* Review's are always appreciated :) 


	3. 3

Deeta: Dude, believe me, if I had a storyline in mind, I'd write it. And I know what you mean when you say it'll get boring, so I'm gonna try my damndest =) But hey, consider the first few chapters as openers. 

CoffeeObsessed007 - Dude! I am so in love with your Preparatory Playboy fic. Go update. 

Everyone who reviewed - Thanks, I mean it. You're reviews are appreciated heaps. 

A/n - There's a guy on tv right now that looks like a monkey. 

* * *

No, it's alright," he sighed, "thanks," he added. 

Tristan put the phone back on the hook and stared blankly at the wall. He had the sudden urge to throw something. Wrapping his fingers around the glass - now only half full of orange juice - he lifted, preparing to hurtle it. _No! That's what the old Tristan would've done. Control you're anger, man. Calm down. Breathe. Put the glass down. _He did so, with a little more coaxing from his conscience. Besides, he didn't particularly feel like explaining why there was an orange stain on the wall, and millions of pieces of glass beneath it. 

Maintaining a low profile. That's what he needed to do. Be inconspicuous, talk to no one; not draw attention to himself. _If only I wasn't so damn good looking._Tristan glared at his reflection in the mirror. In a child like movement, he stuck his tongue out at himself. 

He looked back at the phone, wishing there were someone he could call. Someone who would listen to him. They didn't even have to say anything, just listen. He had only made one phone call, and that was to the mechanics. His car would be 'good as new' in three days at the least. _What a crock of shit. I only got it two months ago. It's not exactly old. _

Looking at his clock he let out a frustrated groan. It was only seven. He could go to sleep, or he could go out. Both presented problems. If he went to sleep now, he wouldn't be able to sleep through all of tomorrow and would have to go out for the whole day. If he went out now, he may accidentally find himself getting acquainted with new people, or making out with new girls. But then again, he would only be out for a few hours. 

Rising from the bed, Tristan grabbed his wallet and left the room. 

* * *

Where was she? It was never this hard to find her. Lorelai was usually in the middle of some sort of loud...something; you couldn't miss her. 

Yet at that moment, she seemed to have disappeared. 

Rory sighed and continued her search for her mother. Having already checked the kitchen, the dining room and asking Michel - Rory had no idea where she could be. 

Walking around aimlessly, she finally brought herself to sit down on the couch in the front lobby. 

"Is there a pool around here?" 

She immediately jumped at the smooth, deep voice behind her. 

"Tristan." 

"Has anyone ever told you that you're awfully jumpy?" 

"Has anyone ever told you that you shouldn't sneak up on people? Give me some warning next time." 

"Would you like an announcement over the PA system in the future?" 

"And a marching band." 

"Noted. Make noise." 

"Lots of noise." 

"In case you've got you're nose buried in another book?" 

"No, incase-... what do you mean 'another' book?" 

"That's the third one I've seen you reading. First when we were in the car, then the dining room and now. You've had a different book for each occasion, which really makes me wonder if you're reading them or just holding them up for the sake of seeming intellectual." 

"Maybe I'm just holding them up so people would think I'm busy and leave me alone." 

"Is that a hint?" 

"More like a blatant request for this conversation to end." 

"Are you this rude to all the guests around here?" 

"Only the annoying ones." 

"That can't be good for business." 

"Seeing as how I don't work here, it probably doesn't matter." 

There was a slight pause before Tristan shook his head and grinned at her. Rory, of course, didn't see it as she had turned back to her book mid-way through their conversation. 

"So?" 

She sighed in frustration and looked back up at him, "so what?" 

"So, is there a pool or not?" 

"There is. Go down there and out the door. The pool is outside," she pointed to her left. 

"See, now this would have gone by so much faster if you would have just answered the question in the first place." He turned and left before she could say anything more. 

* * *

"You're still here." 

"Am I?" 

"How come? Do you get paid to do odd jobs or something?" 

"Do I look like I'm doing anything I should get paid for?" 

"Maybe the whole girl-reading-big-thick-book adds to some sort of atmosphere your mom's trying to get going on here." 

"No, I'm not sitting here for any ornamental purposes. Is it too much to ask for me to be able to just sit here and read my book?" Rory snapped out in frustration. She had only met him this morning, and had only been around him for a few minutes at a time - yet he got on her nerves more then anyone she knew. 

"Now did you want something specific?" 

"No, I was merely making an observation." 

"Well Sherlock, with those impressive deductive skills, you're at the top of your game." 

"I pride myself on it." Tristan replied, unfazed by her blatant insults. "So seriously, shouldn't you be out with your friends or something? It is summer vacation after all." 

"And yet here you are, spending it at an inn." 

"I asked about you." 

"It's none of your business what I do with my spare time. And for that matter, how do you know I don't enjoy being here. For all you know, I might come here every day." 

"Do you?" 

"...that's not the point." 

"What is the point?" 

"Stop being so nosy, Tristan." 

"Noisy and nosy, there's something to add to my extensive list of attributes." 

"Don't forget 'annoying'. Put that at the top in big, bold, red letters." _And 'incredibly hot' just below it,_ she thought, before mentally slapping herself. _No, not right. He's not hot. Just...relatively good looking. Nothing to get excited about._ He only nodded before continuing to speak, "so I was wondering, when do they serve dinner around here?" 

Rory, surprised by the turn the conversation had taken, looked down at her watch. "In about 15 minutes," she answered. 

"Would you like to accompany me?" 

"Yes. I mean no. No, I can't." 

"Why not? Are you going home, or are you reading your book?" 

"I..." she trailed off, racking her brain for a viable excuse. Have a boyfriend? Am in training to become a nun? She really should have read that Book of Excuses her mother had bought recently. At least she would have been prepared. Just then her stomach grumbled loudly. 

Tristan, noticing this as much the same predicament he had had earlier that morning, spoke up, "you may not want to, but your stomach sure does." He grinned at her, knowing he had won. 

They met up in the dining hall 20 minutes later. 

"Wow, they sure know how to deck this place out." Tristan remarked, taking in the beautifully covered tables in the immaculately clean hall. 

"The new owner is coming by for dinner with his associates," a new voice spoke up behind them. "That's why it looks all fancy-shmancy." 

The two teens turned around to face Lorelai, who was looking around, smiling proudly. Rory took in her mothers' outfit, "dressing to impress?" 

"Hey, as much as I'd love it I'd never be able to have dinner with this guy in a pair of jeans," she pouted, tugging at her black dress. "It's too tight." Lorelai complained. 

"Then why'd you pick it?" 

"It looks good. Oh, oh! I know! Why don't you two join me? That way I'll have some interesting conversation," she said, looking hopefully from Rory to Tristan. 

Rory shook her head fervently, "no way! The last time you made me join in one of your dinners I ended up singing the national anthem in front of all the guests." 

"Oh you were so cute back then," she smiled fondly at the memory. 

"It was three weeks ago," Rory commented dryly. She looked at Tristan, cheeks turning pink, "don't say a word." 

He held up his hands in defense, "wasn't gonna." 

"Oh, you just want me to suffer. This is payback for something isn't it?" Lorelai questioned, eyes narrowing. Before Rory had the chance to answer, her mothers attention was already on the waiter passing by them, "oh, put the bread in the middle otherwise it looks unbalanced..." her voice faded out as she walked away ushering the poor man back into the kitchen. 

"Right. Okay. Maybe we should uh...get a table?" Tristan suggested. Rory nodded, looking down at the carpet as they walked toward a table near the back. "You should look ahead of you when you walk." Tristan commented. 

"Why- oomph!" Her question was cut short as she crashed into Tristan's back. 

"Because of that," he smirked down at her. She scowled up at him. A retort was instantly on her lips but he interrupted, "and because you've got such a pretty face." 

Tristan's grin only got wider as Rory's cheeks blazed an interesting shade of red. She stood there momentarily, watching as he strutted away. As he reached their table, Tristan turned back toward her. She met his gaze and then instantly let it drop back to the floor. This was going to be fun. 

After the customary 10-minute awkwardness period was over, they fell into easy conversation. Inane, but easy. '....yeah, so the weather is... ....I hate math, too... ....No, no pets. Although I once had a hamster...' and so on, for almost a good half an hour before Tristan made the mistake of revealing his No-Coffee diet. 

"It's like an addiction. But I gave it up when I gave up smoking, you know. Figured 'curbing one bad addiction, why not another?" 

There was silence, except for the sound of Rory's jaw hitting the tabletop. Finally, her stare of disbelief became too much. 

"What?" 

She shook her head, as if clearing it of thought before turning to his gaze once more "Sorry...I thought I heard you say that you think coffee is a 'bad' addiction." She gave a short laugh. 

He raised an eyebrow, "I did. Say that, I mean." 

"How-...I-...Are you-..." her eyes narrowed in concentration as her brain tried desperately to make the connection with her mouth. 

"Hey, hey. Don't blow a fuse there. I'm just saying it wasn't as good an addiction for me as it is for you," he tried to explain himself. 

Comments flashed through her mind, insults on the tip of her tongue; instead she just shook her head figuring it was better not to argue with a fool. 

He opened his mouth to veer the conversation away from what appeared to be dangerous territory. Just then his gaze moved to a point beyond her shoulder and his mouth seemed stuck in that position. Words were fighting to come out, but his voice was god knows where. 

Rory turned around to see what had grabbed his attention so intently. Her mother was entering the room, leading a group of men and a couple of women. The new owner and his associates, she figured. Turning back to Tristan she looked at him curiously. 

"Is something wrong?" 

He glanced back at her, then toward the group. Her mother was talking to the man at the front. The man, who just so happened to be his father. "Shit- I mean, I have to go." 

"But...we haven't even-" 

"I have to go," he reiterated, not bothering to look at her again. With that he got up and briskly walked toward the door leading into the gardens. 

Ugh, I'm having a crap time trying not to make it all cliche-ey. >:( 

I think I might be leading up to something. At least in my head I am. Dunno how it will come out in writing... 

Reviews are _always_appreciated =D 


	4. 4

Again, thanks Butterbabe *kisses and hugs*. Also, sorry for taking so long. I suck, yes I know. 

Rory sat there dumbfounded. What had just happened? Had she said something to insult him? 

Running her mind over the past few minutes of conversation it became clear that she had not said anything to warrant that kind of reaction from him. 

Looking over her shoulder she watched as her mother and the group of people with her sat around a large round table. He had left after they had walked in. Maybe he knew one of them. Maybe one was a cop and he was a murderer and then...she shook her head, reeling in her imagination. Although it would make some sort of sense. He did seem kind of...not right. Like he was hiding something. It was beyond obvious. 

But that still gave him no right to just leave her there. 

No right at all. 

How rude. 

She stared at her empty plate - feeling slightly dejected and kind of hungry - debating whether to go after him and force him to tell her what was up. But she didn't know him well enough to force out any admissions of deep, dark secrets. Then again, if he was dangerous she would be doing society a favour. 

Maybe she should call the police. 

Luckily, her inner turmoil was solved when a hand reached for hers and pulled her up. 

She gasped in shock and turned to see who was manhandling her across the room. 

It was Tristan. 

"Come crawling back have you?" 

He just gave her a look and continued to steer her toward the gardens. 

  


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "So what was that?" she asked as they stood outside. 

"What was what?" 

"That hasty escape...retreat...exit." She admonished herself for making it sound like he actually was a criminal. Best not to make him suspicious. Try and not lead on that she knew he was a psycho axe murderer. 

_A psycho axe murderer?! _

Crap, she had to get back inside. This was dangerous. She was about ten seconds away from getting chopped up into little-- although he didn't appear to have an axe on him. Or any sharp materials. Although she suspected his shirt was Armani, and it looked like a VERY nice material. She slapped her hand down as it took on a life of its own and inched forward to touch said material. 

No bodily contact. It could be fatal. Oh but he's so gorgeous. No! He is NOT gorgeous. 

"It wasn't a hasty escape retreat exit. It was just a calm leaving of a room for fresh air." 

"Geez you must have been suffocating in there, and that is what you classify as calm? " She raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Well...it was really stuffy in there." 

"The air conditioner was on full blast." 

He remained silent. 

"Is something wrong?" she took in his profile. The tense, strong jaw line, his full lips, cute oddly shaped nose, and the fuzzy funky hair. It looked so soft. 

He glanced at her quickly, before shaking his head. "No it's just nice out here. I mean, did you really want to sit inside on such a nice night?" He gestured toward the garden which splayed out before them, lit by little twinkling lights every few feet. The air was warm and the sky was the kind of inky blue that only lasts a few minutes before night falls. She mentally reminded herself to compliment the gardener on the wonderful job he had done. The flowers and bushes surrounding the pool looked colourful and lively, but somehow stopped before exceeding the line of tackiness. 

She nodded her agreement and smiled. "Yeah, but I was hungry," she pouted playfully, scowling at him. 

He turned, gazing at her seriously, "really?" 

She nodded absent mindedly, losing herself in his sparkling blue eyes. 

"We can go somewhere else." 

"Or we could just go back inside." She smiled slightly. 

"No, let's go somewhere else." 

Again he grabbed her hand, leading her around the inn and to the front where he stopped. "Uh...why don't you pick the place?" 

She laughed at his attempt to cover for not knowing where he was. "Come on. This way." 

They walked down the road silently, both mindful that they were still holding hands. 

  


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It wasn't Luke's that was for damn sure. 

The place didn't serve coffee. 

**Coffee! **

What kind of respectable establishment doesn't serve coffee? 

Tristan watched in amusement as Rory's face contorted from disbelief, to shock, back to disbelief, anger and then finally settled on sadness at the news. 

"We could go somewhere else." 

She shook her head, willing the tears back. "No, no. I'll just get some tea." 

Lorelai would be so disappointed. _What if she disowns me? Oh my god! What will I do? Where will I go? Lane's mom would never let me stay with them, I would corrupt Lane into my wayward life of drugs, gambling and prostitution. Luke? Maybe for a while. My grandparents? Hmm, maybe we should go find another place to eat. _

"We do offer hot chocolate," the waitress spoke up, sensing the young girls distress. 

"Oh thank god! Two cups please." She sighed in relief and waited for Tristan to place his order. 

As soon as they were left alone, the mandatory awkward silence followed. It seemed to be the theme of their day. 

Not being able to take it any longer, Rory spoke, "so how is North Carolina this time of year?" 

"What?" 

North Carolina?" she prompted, "where you're from...how is it?" 

"Oh. Oh! Right...it's...hot." 

"In the summer? You're kidding," she deadpanned. 

"Sorry, it's just there isn't really anything there. Just...North Carolina..." he trailed off, desperately wanting to change the subject. "So, you like books?" 

Her eyes visibly brightened "I love books. I've been reading since I was two. Of course, I couldn't really read so I just looked at the pictures in mom's Cosmopolitan collection. But when I was three, my mom started buying me actual books and I've been reading ever since. How about you?" 

"Well I can honestly say my love for books is no where in the same ball park as yours. I read about a book every few months." He smiled at her shocked expression, "and mostly just for school." 

"Oh." To say she was disappointed would be an understatement. He may not have tried to kill her (yet) but he didn't like reading. _We would never work out. Wait a second, I don't even know him_

Tristan laughed at her expression, "sorry to disappoint you." Their food came at that moment and both, starving by this point, started eating their respective meals. 

In the process of swallowing his chicken, Tristan looked up at the girl sitting across from him. She was busy devouring her own food, and it was going fast. He had never seen a girl that ate so fast. In fact, he hadn't known many girls that ate when they went out on dates. Even when he took them out to some fancy restaurant, they only swallowed a few tiny morsels and filled up the meal with stupid conversation about the latest gossip. Looking back, he had actually dated a lot of idiots who didn't realise that when you eat, you're not supposed to talk. Rory on the other hand, well she seemed to realise the importance of a good meal. 

She also didn't seem to be anticipating the customary make out session. She had to know it was coming up, didn't she? He had never foregone making out, because although he usually picked out brain dead bimbos as dates, he sure knew how to pick 'em pretty. 

She was taking a long sip of her hot chocolate, and Tristan noticed the frothy moustache as she came back for air. The sudden urge to kiss her was overwhelming. Noticing his staring, she became self-conscious and brought a napkin to her mouth, removing the moustache. 

"What? Do I have something on my face?" 

Tristan shook his head but didn't look away. The whole innocent thing really suited her, she made it so desirable. But damn, he wanted to kiss her! 

"You know, you could drop the act." 

Rory raised an eyebrow at him, "what act?" 

"The cute little Miss Innocent act." 

She was genuinely confused, "I don't know what your talking about." 

"You mean you're always like this?" he couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. 

"Always like what?" 

"Never mind...I thought it was just an act you put on for your mother." 

At this, she seemed to get insulted and defensive, "I don't 'act' for anyone. I don't know what kind of kooky land you came from but here most people are themselves." 

If only she knew no one was themselves where he came from, thus the suspicion in the first place. 

He smirked and looked out the window. 

"What? What is that?" 

"What?" Tristan looked baffled. 

"That...that...smirk." 

"There was no smirk. It was a smile." 

"No, no, no. I know what a smile looks like and that was a smirk. While a distant relative - a cousin maybe - to the smile, it is definitely not a smile." 

The conversation picked up from there as they argued back and forth, falling into a comfortable pattern. 

  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

That night, back in her comfortable bed in her comfortable house, Rory couldn't get her mind off the handsome blonde. 

Not that she wanted to or anything, but she had never thought so excessively of any guy before and just to keep up appearances she told herself to stop thinking about him every few minutes. It didn't work, but he was hot so that's okay. 

Rory had promised her mother she would go back to the inn tomorrow and help out again. Maybe Tristan would be there. Not that she cared or anything, because she didn't. But if she was there and he was there, then they were both there. And if that happened, they could hang out again. Together. So she wouldn't be bored, of course. 

As she drifted off to sleep Rory thought about their earlier conversation, when he had accused her of putting up a 'cute little Miss. Innocent act'. But instead of being angry, she smiled. 

_He thinks I'm cute. _   


Righto, uh, well...I am working my way upto something...very slowly. Promise. So um, care to review? 


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